


More Important Things

by DevBasaa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Marauders' Era, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:50:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevBasaa/pseuds/DevBasaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes dungbombs are not the most important thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Important Things

**Author's Note:**

> First posted to LJ September 2004 (archived to AO3)

He'd been on his way to the common room. A fourth year bloke had given him some old dungbombs and Sirius didn't want a second more to pass until he could show James his find. The bloke couldn't be sure they would still work as they were very old, but that didn't matter! Even a slim chance that they could go off once placed in Snivillus' sack was enough. In fact, it was _everything_. So that's where Sirius had been heading, until he passed by his own dorm room door.

A noise had stopped him, but he didn't know what exactly he'd heard. He took a step closer to the threshold and listened. He heard it again. It sounded like his little brother, Regulus, after he'd had a bad dream. Sirius rolled his eyes. It must be Peter. The boy had no back-bone. If it weren't for him and James, he'd surely be bullied by--well, by him and James. Sirius shrugged and went into the dorm room.

He didn't find Peter, though, face buried and sobbing into his pillow as he'd suspected. He found Remus, shoulders hunched, sitting on his own bed.

Sirius quietly walked up, his head tipped to one side. Remus was a lot of things--okay, he was a werewolf and that counted for everything--but he wasn't a crier or a baby like Peter could be. Sirius had seen him with fresh red, swollen cuts or more tired than Sirius thought a person could be without collapsing, but Remus never complained. He certainly never cried. Sirius could tell Remus held something in his lap, his attention fixated on it. Sirius thought he heard him sniff again and took a few more steps towards the bed.

"Remus, what is it?"

Remus jumped and dragged his arm across his eyes; he put his back to Sirius.

"Nothing." He sounded sad.

Sirius frowned. Marauders reserved lying for teachers, not mates. "Don't be absurd." Sirius climbed onto Remus' bed and crossed his legs; he sat facing Remus, even if Remus wasn't facing him. "Something's wrong, tell me."

Remus paused a moment and then shrugged. "It's not that important."

The depressed edge in Remus' tone made Sirius' stomach sink. It sounded as if he'd resigned himself to the sadness and had little hope for anything else. Sirius' frown deepened and he shifted closer. When he spoke, he kept his voice very soft, as if Remus were an animal that would skitter away at any loud noises. "Tell me anyway?"

Remus didn't move for a long moment. He continued to stare down at his lap and whatever he had stashed there. With a huge sigh, he twisted about so that he faced Sirius and, slowly, he held up a white Oxford with a little green alligator over the breast pocket. Sirius raised one brow. There was nothing remarkable about the shirt. It looked perfectly normal--until Remus turned it. The back was covered with blood stains, wide lines of it that crossed at an angle. The red had bled into the fabric and the edges were fuzzy. It looked horrible.

"It was my favorite." Remus' face twisted, perhaps fighting back another sniff. "M-my Da and I bought it over the summer. We've never--" Remus sighed again. "It was just him and me, my mum stayed behind. He helped me pick it out. I just--I really liked it. I knew my back was hurting some, but--" Remus shook his head and lowered the shirt; he spread it across his lap and stared at the stains.

Sirius felt awful. He'd never seen Remus like this and for reasons he couldn't place, it _hurt_ to see Remus like this. He shifted closer again. "Can't we get it cleaned?"

Remus shook his head again. "I can't-- People will ask questions." He bit his lip. "I should just throw it out."

That resigned tone had returned and Sirius reached out to grab Remus' arm, as if stopping him from throwing out the shirt right then. "No, wait! It's your favorite shirt." Sirius hesitated for a moment; he tightened his grip on Remus' arm. "Maybe Madame Pomfrey can help."

Remus looked up at him and blinked. "Do you think so?" Remus actually sounded hopeful this time and Sirius felt a smile spread across his face.

"Sure."

Remus answered the smile, though a touch subdued. "Yes, all right."

Nodding, Sirius jumped up from Remus' bed. He ran his fingers through his hair and then made a sweeping gesture towards the door. "I'll take you. She can look at your back too."

Remus bit his lip and then shook his head. "No, it better just be me." Sirius frowned and before he could rebuttal, Remus cut him off. "You're not supposed to know, Sirius."

It wasn't as if the teachers wouldn't realize eventually that they'd figured out about Remus. Revealing that now seemed as good a time as any. Sirius shrugged. "So? What are they going to do, throw me out?" Sirius flashed a cocky grin. "I'm a Black, that won't happen. I'll make sure it gets cleaned."

Remus' smile turned bright and broad. He stood up from the bed, the shirt clutched in his hand. "All right." He looked down at his shoes and Sirius watched as his ears turned pink. Remus looked back up, smiling still. "Thank you."

"Of course!" Sirius made the sweeping gesture again, indicating that Remus precede him out of the room. He paused long enough to toss the dungbombs on his bed. The prank could keep. He'd tell James about them later.

There were other things to do right now.

 

~end


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